To Catch a Fox

Authors Note/Disclaimer:
I do not own the X Men or the fictional universe they live in. This is a work of fan fiction. I’m just borrowing them for my own amusement and yours. I am making no money from this.

Please tell me what you think by posting a review or emailing me at ginevrasn@yahoo.com. Put AFF in the subject line if you do so, so I don’t delete it by mistake. I do not have a beta to proof for me, so don’t be shy.

I am using two main POV’s in this story. The primary one will be Gambit and Wolverine will be the secondary one.

Warnings: There will be some M/F sex in later chapters. There will also be some violence and a smattering of profanity.

Chapter One: Games

When the shit hit the fan, it was decided that they should scatter and lay low for a few months. That was when Rogue decided to pick another fight with him. She was pressuring him once again to cut ties with Belladonna. He failed to see the point in antagonizing Belle when his relationship with Rogue was just as hopeless. He told her as much before he attached himself to Logan’s group. She was angry, but he knew they’d make up eventually. Besides, it was nice to be a free man once in a while, wasn’t it?

Logan took his little group far north and Remy thought more than once he’d made a mistake as the cold settled into his bones. This little town on the edge of nowhere was miserably cold and smelled of dirt. Dirty cars, dirty streets, dirty people. As Logan led them into the town’s one and only bar, he wondered if these people bathed at all. Or were they afraid of freezing to death if they got wet?

“I’ll go ask around.”

Logan left him alone in a corner with Jean and Scott as he went to question the bartender. The bartender was middle aged with a salt and pepper beard that was more salt than pepper. At least his bar was cleaner than the streets. Jean and Scott were deep in some private discussion of their own, leaving Remy to his own devices. Needing something to do with his hands, he pulled out a deck of cards and shuffled them aimlessly while he looked about.

The patrons were almost exclusively men. Most of them talked loudly and were already half-drunk, even though it was early in the evening. Those who were sober enough to play tossed darts. Those who weren’t bet on the games. Remy easily slipped into the nearest group, buying his way in with a round of drinks.

The only women aside from Jean were a pretty blond waitress and a tiny red-head in a blue flannel shirt. He waited for the red-head to turn around, since the blonde sported a flashy new ring. The red-head was talking with a large dark haired man at the end of the bar and he watched Logan interrupt them.

The red-head turned to speak to Logan. Remy was immediately intrigued by her striking looks. Beneath the bright red shoulder length hair her skin was caramel colored, her eyes dark and her features showed a heavy dose of Native American blood, or something similar. It looked like she was going to blow Logan off, but her friend pulled her aside and there was an argument.

“That there’s Kit Wylde and her partner, Sean McAdam. If we’re lucky we may seem some fireworks.” One of the men pointed a dirty finger at the two young people arguing.

“See, that McAdam kid’s been stringing Kit along all season, saying as how he’s going on her ‘hermitage’ this year. But damned if somebody ain’t wearing something shiny, hmm?” He nudged Remy with an unwelcome elbow as the waitress went by and gave a gap-toothed grin. “Wanna bet on whether or not Kit scratches her eyes out?”

“No.” Remy scooted his chair out of reach of the drunk and watched the little drama unfold. He noted the waitress’s anxious glances as she moved between the tables. He wasn’t the only one watching.

“Dammit, Kit! I’m sorry.”

“Tell it to the wind.” The girl turned away from him and thumped her empty mug on the bar. “See you next spring. Partner.” Then she walked over to stand at Logan’s elbow.

“Look’s like I’ve got a cancellation.” Her voice was loud enough to carry across the room. Logan motioned her to sit beside him and they talked at length in quieter tones. Remy turned his attention back to the men around him.

“Damn. Was hoping for a cat fight.” The drunk spoke again. “Never know what a Wylde will do.”

“A Wylde?” Remy was bored and if tall tales were all the entertainment to be had, he’d listen.

“Them Wylde’s have never been right. They’re always going in the forest, even in winter. Her Pa went in once, twenty odd years back and came back out in the spring with an Injun woman. Wild as you ever seen. Not a word of English. He called her Winter Moon and about six month later, that one was born.” He nodded at Kit.

“Yeah. Two years after old man Wylde got himself killed by poachers, Winter Moon just disappeared into the forest. Kit says she went home.” Another man, this one a little more sober added eagerly. “There ain’t no place out there to go. Nothing out there but trees and them crazy foxes.”

“Foxes?” Remy tried not to smile.

“Yeah. Big ones. My cousin seen one once. Bigger’n a husky. You see one, whatever you do, don’t shoot it. Makes ‘em mad. They never did find them poachers what did Kit’s Pa.”

“I will be sure to remember.” He hid his smile in his beer. What did the XMen have to fear from a few overgrown foxes, presuming there were any? He changed the subject, trying to start a game of darts. He was interrupted by Logan’s return.

“Got us a guide and someplace to stay ‘till spring.”

“Do we really need to stay that long?” Jean sounded disappointed. Perhaps Remy wasn’t the only one who didn’t relish the idea.

“We really gon’ stay in dis place? Remy don’ like the cold.”

“That or nothing. Once we get there it won’t be safe to come back until spring. Getting late in the season, we leave in the morning.”

“Where’s this guide Logan?” Scott adjusted his ruby glasses as he scanned the sparse crowd.

“The little red-head at the bar. She’s got a cabin and she’s willing to take us.”

“Looks kind of young.”

“Family business. Hired her dad about fifteen years back. Good man.”

“Then why don’t we hire him?”

“Can’t. He’s dead.” Remy looked up to see the girl heading over, a mug of beer in her hand. The locals at the next table fell silent as she sat down between Logan and Remy. Logan introduced her and she nodded to each of them as she sipped her beer.

“Everything set?” She asked. Her gaze flickered over the men at the next table. Then her gaze seemed to linger over Remy for an extra half beat before looking back at Logan.

“Any objections?” Logan waited for Scott’s approval, since he was technically their leader

“No.”

“Good. Looks like we’ve got a deal, Kit.”

“We’ll leave in the morning. You folks got any gear?”

“No. We’ve got just the clothes on our backs and cash in our pockets.”

“I’ll get us gear then.” She rose and started to leave.

“Hey Kit!” One of the young men who’d been talking to Remy tossed a quarter in her direction. She caught it easily.

“What Norman?”

“This guy here says he can whip anybody at darts.” Remy hadn’t said any such thing, but since it was most likely true, he remained silent.

“So?”

“Come on…” One of his companions tossed another quarter. She caught that one also.

“How much did you bet?”

“Just a round of drinks, that’s all.”

“Ripping off the tourists, again?”

“Only if you play.” She flipped the two quarters in her hand thoughtfully as she sipped her beer.

“All right. Quarter a round.” She took another look at Remy and shrugged, putting her beer on the table.

“Ladies first.” He smiled and nodded his head in her direction.

Remy sat back as the girl borrowed one of the young men’s darts, laying them neatly in a row on the table. Then Norman flipped a quarter into the air. The girl’s hands flashed as she tossed all three darts before calmly plucking the quarter out of the air. The darts landed precisely in the center of the board. Remy sat forward in interest; a slow smile spread across his face.

“My turn.” He pulled the darts from the board and returned to stand beside the girl, then tossed all three with a flick of his wrist. They landed in a tight circle around the bulls-eye.

“Nice.” Kit gave Remy a measuring look as Norman tallied the score. She pulled the darts from the board and the game continued. Remy studied her quietly as he pretended to concentrate on the game. Her movements were quick and full of controlled energy, never a wasted movement, but never quite still either. Even at rest she seemed to be in constant motion. By the time they reached the final round, the locals were gathered around them, betting furiously. In the end, Kit won by a narrow margin. Remy did his best to look chagrined as he offered his hand to the victor.

“Remy not used to competition.” He raised her hand to his lips. “Maybe you play another game?” He turned up the charm as he met her eyes. He’d made a decision. She’d nearly won that game fairly and no one but a fellow mutant could have matched him throw for throw.

{Too competitive to let a man win, cher? Even if it means sleeping alone?}

“No more darts tonight. I’ve got work to do.” Kit looked uncomfortable with the attention. He held onto her hand as she started to withdraw.

“Someting simple den.” Remy smiled at her and watched as the girl’s resolve wavered under the force of his charm. He ignored Jean’s snort of disgust and Scott’s scowl of disapproval.

“Look. I’m not the one you bet. You can’t win your money back from me.”

“Remy jus’ want to defend his honor.” He sat down and motioned her to sit across from him. He placed two quarters on the table between them. “You try an take dem. I try an' stop you. Simple, non?”

“All right.” She placed her hands on the table in front of her. Remy crossed his arms and waited. “When do I go?”

“Whenever you like, cher.” The girl looked him over again, then moved suddenly, reaching for the coins. Remy was faster, letting her grab the coins but catching her wrists. He turned her hands over and she opened her palms to find them empty.

“How?” She flexed her empty hands, blinking in confusion. He smiled as he released her wrists to show a quarter in each of his own palms. A simple trick for a master thief, but impressive enough. She shook her head with a smile. “You win. What do you want? A drink?”

“A kiss.” Remy added the two quarters to the pile beside her mug. He sat back in his chair and smiled at her. Kit looked around nervously. The other patrons were still arguing over their bets.

“A kiss?” He nodded, his steady gaze a challenge. He’d set the hook, now he’d let her reel herself in.

She bit her lip then walked around the table to stand beside him. As petite as she was, her face was almost level with his and she leaned close to him. She breathed in deeply through her nose and licked her lip thoughtfully.

{She like de way Remy smell? Interesting.}

He waited patiently as she studied his face and his strange eyes. He was pleased when she seemed unconcerned by them. She reached out to place a hand behind his neck and touched her lips to his, closing her eyes. Her mouth opened and she nibbled at his lower lip. Her tongue darted out to tickle his upper lip and he opened his mouth to her. He let her explore his mouth freely, returning her kiss with only his mouth and tongue, allowing her to set the pace. His eyes were open and he watched as the locals stopped arguing to stare at them. When the cat calls began he pushed her away gently.

“Enough, cher. We have an audience.” She licked her lips again and blinked, her eyes dark and thoughtful. Then she scowled at the whistling men. She straightened with a jerk and snatched up her quarters angrily.

“Damned yahoos.” She muttered and stalked off to talk to the bar’s owner. He gave her a set of keys and she walked behind the bar and opened a door. Remy watched her leave as he sipped his beer.

“What the hell was that Gumbo?” Logan growled at him.

“Entertainment.”


The next morning found Kit all business as she rounded up her party and herded them to the general store to get them outfitted with the proper gear. Remy was a little disappointed when she refused to respond to his attempts to engage her attention.

“Keep it light folks; you’ll be humping it on your back.” Kit advised them before making some last minute selections of her own. Remy watched her as she walked about, supervising their choices.

She nodded approval at Logan’s choices and helped Jean find a pair of boots in the right size. Scott’s choices were deemed adequate. When Remy objected to purchasing thermal underwear, she insisted that he buy them.

“Dey make me itch.” He explained as he tried to slip the packages back on their shelf.

“Then try these.” She selected another brand and pressed the packages into his hands, and followed him to the register to make sure he purchased them. “You’ll thank me later.” Then she sent them back to their rooms to change into their new gear.

It turned out that the bar tender and owner was McAdam’s uncle and a friend of Kit’s. He loaded them and all their gear into his SUV and dropped them off at the edge of town. Kit shouldered her pack and she watched them take theirs. She waved to her friend before leading them into the forest. The air was cold, but the sky was clear and the day was sunny.

“Keep close folks. And no molesting the wildlife. Some of these critters fight back.”

As the “civilization” fell out of view behind them, Kit’s spirits seemed to lift. She happily pointed out bits of interesting scenery and chatted amiably about the animal and plant life. Remy was even able to get her to laugh at a few of his jokes and he found the sound charming and her smile infectious.

By the time she called a halt for lunch at noon, they were beginning to tire. Remy was disappointed that Kit had vetoed the idea of a fire. He had neglected to put on the thermal underwear and was now beginning to regret it. He was freezing and his feet were going numb. But, he said nothing. They ate a cold meal, during which Jean confessed that her pack was too heavy. They spent an extra half hour redistributing her share of the supplies while Kit scouted the next leg of their trip.

“Looks good and clear for a bit.” Her eyes glittered and she seemed impatient to go on. Logan paused to sniff the wind and turned to search the forest to the east. Kit’s eyes scanned across the trees as well. “We should move on.”

“Somethin’s out there.” Logan spoke, eyes still scanning the trees.

“Let’s go.” Kit shouldered her pack and waved them to follow.

“Wait a minute. What’s out there?” Scott objected.

“Giant foxes…people of the forest…take your pick. Local legend. I’m named for them. Kit’s just a nickname.”

“What’s your name?” She turned to look back at Jean.

“Winter Fox.” Logan answered for her. The girl nodded at him and turned back.

“Remy be thinkin’ that just tavern talk.” The girl didn’t answer, just kept walking.

“Shut it, Gumbo and keep walkin’.”

“Are they dangerous?” Jean asked.

“Not if we behave ourselves. And right now that means getting out of her territory.” Then she hushed them and led them at a quicker pace along the trail.

By late afternoon, they were tired and Remy had fallen behind. Now he was shivering and his feet were like blocks of ice. He was relieved when Kit called a halt at a fork in the path. She pulled off one glove to touch the trunk of nearby tree, running her fingers along the bark at eye level and just above. She nodded to herself before turning around.

“We can rest here a bit. Don’t bother with a fire, we won’t be here long.” She sat down on a fallen log and pulled out her canteen and some trail mix. She watched idly as they tried to make themselves comfortable. Logan stalked up to the tree to look at it himself.

“What are these markings?”

“Signposts. Notes. Sometimes warnings. It’s a code we’ve used for generations.”

Remy fumbled with his lighter and a cigarette, hoping to warm his icy fingers. His hands shook and he was shivering. Kit watched him try several times without success. She frowned.

“It’s what lets us Wyldes roam without getting lost.”

“Some of these are fresh.” Logan sniffed at the tree thoughtfully, but didn’t comment.

“I come through here several times a year.”

Logan gave her a skeptical glance, but her attention was on Remy. Remy looked up from his efforts to find her standing in front of him. She scowled at him and reached for the neck of his parka, worming the fingers of one hand through the opening, down through the neck of his sweater until she touched bare skin. His skin was icy and his teeth chattered. He was too miserable to make more than a feeble protest at the invasion.

“Where are your long johns?”

“In...m…my…p…p…pack.”

“Idiot.” She sighed, then returned to her pack and began to rummage in it. She unfolded a thin metallic thermal blanket and returned to Remy, unzipping his parka just enough to slide it underneath, wrapping it around his torso and tucking it into his waistband. Then she unzipped her own parka and pulled out a scarf and wound it around his neck. She zipped him back up and took his cigarettes from him.

“Anyone else forget to put on their long johns?” She glared at them. “If you think it’s cold now, wait ‘till it gets dark.” No one answered her.

“Good. Finish up. We’re making a detour.” She returned to the tree and felt the marks again, eyes closed in concentration. She pulled out a pocket knife and made a quick series of slashes before leading them down the left hand fork.

“Logan, keep an eye on Remy. Keep him moving.” She called over her shoulder.

“Where are we going?” Scott asked impatiently. “We need to get him warmed up.”

“Someplace warm, but it’s still a ways to go.” Kit walked faster. Logan took Remy’s pack from him and handed it to Scott, concentrating on keeping the taller man upright. Remy was silent. Trying to keep his numb feet moving became his sole concern.

A strange shriek, almost human in nature echoed through the trees. Kit stopped stock still and pulled down her hood to listen. A second shriek sounded from a different direction. She scanned the forest, then glanced back at her companions.

“Something wrong?” Scott stopped at her elbow, looking down at her suspiciously. He was startled to see that the last inch or so of her hair had turned white and threads of white could be seen at the crown. “What happened to your hair?”

“What happened to your eyes?” She turned quickly as another shriek came from behind them. He jumped as she replied with a strange “Wow-wow-wow” call. She cocked her head to listen. A similar cry echoed back from their left. She relaxed

“Let’s go.” She took off again, pulling her hood back up.

“Wait a minute…” Scott reached for her shoulder and brought her to a stop. “What the hell is going on?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged him off.

“I’m not buying that.” He dropped the packs and stepped in front of her. “What the hell is out there?”

“More foxes, bachelors I think. They’re nervous about having strangers in their territory.”

“What about you?”

“I’m not a stranger.” She grabbed Remy’s discarded pack and started walking fast. Scott opened his mouth to argue further, but Jean stopped him with a touch on his arm.

“Leave it alone, Scott. At least for now.” Jean stumbled and Scott took her pack from her, she was beginning to shiver in the cold.